


bite down (into me)

by doghairsweaters



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Vampire Eddie Kaspbrak, my kink is communication in a relationship, or at least my attempt at it, richie made some passive aggressive purchases
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27237571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doghairsweaters/pseuds/doghairsweaters
Summary: There are three things true about Eddie Kaspbrak on this October night: He was a vampire, he was in love with Richie Tozier, and he had forgotten something important.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	bite down (into me)

**Author's Note:**

> hello :3c this is an au that has been sitting in the back of my head for years now and i finally found a fandom to put it to. hope it works. ♡
> 
> thank u jess for letting me bounce ideas off ur dms.
> 
> title from this [song](https://open.spotify.com/track/5FE8wW6YIKHFtSlbGLhYKB?si=1OnwKXO8RLas4a4TWX-gmw).

Rain drizzled down onto the city streets, the puddles and the clouds both reflecting the hazy orange glow of the streetlights. Eddie cursed under his breath as his foot landed squarely in what appeared to be more like a small pond in the middle of the crosswalk, “Fuck!” A car ran a red light and swerved around him on the busy city streets, its horn blaring as it disappeared. By the time Eddie had the wits about him to give the middle finger its tail lights were already well down the road. He shook himself off, straightened his black coat, and pressed on as he mumbled to himself, “Well, at least I’m not a fucking witch.” He couldn’t imagine the horror if he dissolved right there on the pavement.

Minor inconveniences aside, it was a rather pleasant October evening. It was a little warm for that time of year, but the light rainfall made it refreshing. If his socks and pants weren’t soaked through, he may have considered a romantic walk that night. But now, with squishy shoes and scrubs clinging to his skin, he felt as if he’d just bathed in whatever the opposite of the disinfectant they used in the hospital was.

For an undead hematophage, a night shift ER doctor wasn’t a bad gig. It took a huge amount of self-control, but he was rewarded for his efforts with a steady supply of literal blood bags. The voice in the back of Eddie’s head, probably his mother’s voice, always nagged at him about the harms of stealing ( _ especially _ from the blood bank), but it wasn’t  _ really _ stealing if he needed it to survive was it? Besides, with the countless lives he had saved through his career, a few pints of blood here and there didn’t feel like an unfair price. That’s what he told himself to soothe his guilt, at least.

He was about two blocks from the apartment when his mind wandered from cold hospital vinyl to the warm domesticity of home (although for the cost of rent the domesticity was the only warm thing about it). He smiled to himself when he imagined Richie curled up on their ratty couch, shadows casted over his face by the glow of the TV left on with whatever decades old sitcom was rerunning on the station he’d fallen asleep to. Eddie always told him that he should wait for him watching the TV in the bedroom, but Richie told him the same two things every time: “It’s not the same. Plus, I want to see you when you come home.”   


Eddie imagined the love in his partner’s tired smile, and in turn smiled to himself. But that smile disappeared from his face at the sound of shouting across the street. A group of three drunk men stumbled out of the bar, and one of them immediately found the nearest car parked on the curb and unzipped his pants to piss on the tires. Another one screamed at him, “Hey, that’s my car, dipshit!” and Eddie picked up his pace. He didn’t need to get caught up in that.

He finally got to his building and the bell jingled as he slipped in the front door. He pulled down his hood and wiped his shoes on the doormat, then walked to the closed off stairway. He looked over his shoulder, right then left, then right and left again, before he briefly turned into a bat to fly up to the third floor then reverted back to humanoid shape again. He entered the hallway. It was uncharacteristically quiet for a weekend, but Eddie wasn’t one to complain on that front. There was nobody in the hall which in itself wasn’t unusual, but it wasn’t unheard of for somebody to blare music, throw a party, or attempt the next vaguely life-threatening viral challenge. You know, kid stuff. His apartment was the third one on the right and his wet shoes squeaked on the wooden floor until he reached it. He was first puzzled to see a stream of light under the door, but it wouldn’t be the first time Richie had fallen asleep with the lights on so he shrugged it off and unlocked the door.

Sure enough, the TV was on, but the volume was muted and Richie was nowhere to be found on the couch, the red woven blanket he usually used half draped over the couch and crumpled on the floor. Eddie slipped his shoes off by the door and hung up his coat on the hooks to the right.

“Over here,” called a voice from around the corner. Eddie followed it, and he found Richie in the kitchen. He had his back to Eddie, and faced the stove cooking something on a pan. 

Eddie sniffed the air. “You’re making eggs?”

“Well, I can’t just hide in the back at work and guzzle down a bit of AB negative.” There was a particular bite to his tone, one that made Eddie’s stomach drop with the realization that he had forgotten something important.

“I’m sorry, there was an accident and I got caught up—”

Richie turned halfway around, spatula in hand waving and pointing at Eddie, and said with his voice raised but not quite a shout, “Dude, it’s four in the fucking morning!”

Eddie blinked. “What?” He didn’t believe it at first, but then his eyes looked to the little digital clock in the microwave. 4:07 A.M. it blinked at him in a sinister light green. That was when he remembered: he had originally been supposed to get off of work at 12:30, and he had plans to meet Richie at the bar down the street where Stanley worked on the weekends. How long had Richie waited for him? “I’m sorry, Rich,” he said, “there was a pile up accident on the highway tonight and the ER was overwhelmed. I can’t abandon patients on the table over a hot date.”

He heard Richie exhale through his nose as he pushed up his glasses and turned his gaze back to the eggs. He didn’t look angry anymore. He just looked sad. “I know,” he conceded. He poked at the eggs meekly with the spatula before he truly went back to work, and Eddie came up behind him to look behind his shoulder and saw he was scrambling the eggs tonight. This morning. Whatever. “I just miss you, you know?” Richie continued, “I know it’s ridiculous to be jealous of an accident victim,” he paused for thought with another wave of the spatula in the air and Eddie, already being in hot water as it was, stifled the urge to wince when a couple pieces of egg fell to the floor and silently cleaned them up with a paper towel, “but maybe I  _ am _ a little bit jealous. Not of their situation, but of your time.”

Eddie understood. He didn’t enjoy his time away from Richie anymore than his partner enjoyed his absence, and he often caught himself daydreaming on shifts where three different ambulances didn’t pull into the lot and unload their passengers at the same exact moment. There was just something about Richie’s warm hands on his chilled skin; another vampire would have argued you can get that from any old human, but Richie was special. It wasn’t humanity that Eddie was in love with. It was just Richie. The way his eyes crinkled when he laughed or his brow furrowed when he was trying to understand one of Eddie’s odd habits (the day Richie accidentally spilled a bag of rice and Eddie had to count each individual grain would forever live in infamy). Or how he cracked jokes even when the situation seemed dire. Or how he wasn’t necessarily quick to anger but when he was it was only because he cared so goddamn much. These things were exclusively Richie, and Eddie loved and was fascinated by them all.

The eggs were done. Richie removed the pan from the stove and scraped them onto a paper plate with his spatula. He placed the pan and spatula in the sink with soap and water for later, and grabbed a loaf of bread from the counter. He took two slices from it and put them into the toaster next to the fridge, and as he did that Eddie came up behind him and tried to take his free left hand, but something zapped him and he jumped back with a shout.

“Ow! Shit!” He shook his hand out and Richie, now that the bread was set to go in the toaster, turned around. He inspected his fingers and didn’t see any damage, but damn if that didn’t hurt. “What the hell was that?” He lightly sucked at the tips of his fingers in an attempt to alleviate the burning sensation. Richie to his surprise didn’t seem to be concerned in the slightest. He held up his hand and wiggled his fingers to show the vampire that he was wearing several rings on three of his fingers as well as that he had a couple bracelets around his wrist. His other arm looked the same, and Eddie also saw a necklace around his neck poking out from the neckline of his black shirt. He had both a lip ring and a nose ring in and Eddie was fairly sure he could see earrings poking out from behind his disheveled hair. Even his oversized, ripped jeans were held around his waist by a belt with a large buckle and the denim jacket over his t-shirt had some ugly shiny buttons on it. “Is that…?”

“Silver?” Richie finished the question for him. He was good at that. He nodded, “Yeah.”

Eddie hadn’t been able to see it before from the angle Richie stood, but now fully in front of him he could see Richie’s dissatisfaction fully on display. Maybe he deserved that. It wasn’t going to stop him from sticking his bottom lip out in a pout, though.

Richie shook his head, “Nuh-uh.” The toast popped out of the toaster. He grabbed both slices between his fingers and put them on his plate next to the eggs. “I’m not falling for the puppy dog eyes tonight.” He grabbed some hot sauce out of the fridge door, and took both that and his plate of eggs to the couch in front of the muted television.

“Please?” Eddie followed him the four steps into the living room. And yes, he did the puppy dog eyes despite Richie’s claim it wouldn’t work.

It didn’t work.

“Go over there and wait,” Richie said as he dribbled a generous amount of hot sauce on top of his scrambled eggs. He pointed towards the kitchen again with the bottle, and a glob of hot sauce fell onto the couch with an audible plop. They both winced. Richie then scooped it up with his index finger and licked it off. There was still a visible spot on the couch, but Eddie would have to use stain remover later. He still wasn’t in any position to complain. He took a few steps back to where the living room met the kitchen and leaned against the counter.

Richie shoveled a fork full of eggs into his mouth. “Look,” he mumbled with a hand in front of his mouth, “I’m not mad at you personally.”

Eddie perked up a little at that. “So, I don’t have to worry about finding a new place to stay?”

Richie had to hold back his laughter to prevent himself from choking on his food, and swallowed before he dared to speak again. “Dude,” he chuckled, “if I really wanted you to pack up your things, I would have cooked these eggs with garlic.” There was the humorous side Eddie loved. A stereotypical joke at his own expense, sure, but the vampire couldn’t help but smile even if he was in trouble. “But anyway, I can’t even remember the last time we went on a date.” His fork moved in his hand as he talked, but luckily he only did it between bites so there would be no more accidents. “I know your job is unpredictable, and there’s not much you can do about it, but I feel like I’m always explaining your absences to people.” He put some of the eggs on top of the toast and took a bite. “And tonight Stanley just gave me this sad look instead of asking where you were, and I guess it got to me.”

“I’m sorry.” Eddie knew that despite his best intentions it sounded pathetic and insincere, but he didn’t know what else to say. Even if he could go back in time there wasn’t anything he could have done differently, the empty words were all he had.

“That’s not what I want,” Richie told him between bites. He sighed with fatigue. “Remember when we first met? We weren’t  _ constantly _ together of course, but I got to see you! Now we’re just ships passing in the night.” He finished the first piece of toast and used his fork to scoop the last of the eggs onto the second piece. “You know, I’d kill for a cup of coffee right now,” he mumbled around the dryness of the toast, “but I’ve got to get a good night’s rest for my gig tomorrow.” Eddie nodded in agreement on the outside and hoped that Richie couldn’t see the split second panic on his face when he realized he’d forgotten about that as well. “Anyway,” he went on, “I want to see more of you than just sleeping in the same bed. That’s not a relationship.”

Eddie nodded again. Nothing Richie said was wrong, and he too longed for the days where they carelessly spent their nights running up and down the city streets. Sometimes hand in hand, other times Richie challenged Eddie to a race down the final block. Richie could never compete with Eddie’s supernatural speed, but Eddie always stayed at just the perfect speed to tease: not so fast that Richie couldn’t come close at a reasonable pace, but not slow enough for him to catch up either. He couldn’t quite overdo it on a busy city street without turning a few heads, anyway. But those were the nights before he got the job at the hospital, and, just as Richie had pointed out, as much as it made his feeding habits significantly easier it really did eat up most of his time. Time he’d rather spend with his partner.

“I could go down to part-time hours,” Eddie suggested.

Richie nodded. He was halfway done with the second piece of toast by now, and he put the last half back on the plate and started removing the rings from his left hand. He placed them on the wooden coffee table next to the sofa. Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Why can’t you just quit?” he asked. “It’s not like you don’t have money after being alive for eternity.”

“You know why,” Eddie shot back, “and you know why it’s got to be this job specifically.”

Richie conceded, put his hands up in surrender to show he had gotten the point, then removed the bracelet from his right wrist as well and put it with the rings. “I guess you’re right. I’m being selfish.” He took the half of toast back in his hand and continued eating. Eddie watched him from his spot by the kitchen, and wondered if he could get away with approaching him now. He couldn’t tell if there was actually a sly glint in the human’s eyes or if it was just the low lighting of the singular lamp in the living room. But that wasn’t the point right now.

“It’s not entirely selfish,” Eddie said. “I know I don’t say it enough, but I miss you, too.”

“You’re right,” Richie popped the last piece of toast in his mouth, “you don’t say it enough.” He folded his empty plate in half, but in order to throw it away he would have to go into the kitchen again with Eddie. After a beat of silence, he evidently decided it was worth the risk and crossed over.

Eddie waited until he threw the paper plate away in the bin under the sink, then took his own risk and came up beside Richie and took his de-ringed right hand in his left and pulled it up to his lips to place a kiss on each knuckle. “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised between each kiss.

Richie raised an eyebrow and warned him, “I don’t want promises you’re not going to keep.”

“I will,” Eddie insisted. He kissed the back of Richie’s hand again, this time in the center. “I’ll make it up to you and more.” He looked up at Richie, and the man had a look on his face that said he wanted to hear more. Eddie took Richie’s hand and placed his palm against his cheek. “Do I tell you how much I miss your touch when I’m gone?”

“Hmm,” Richie brought his free hand up to his chin to create an exaggerated thinking expression, “why don’t you start and I’ll let you know if it sounds familiar.”

Eddie leaned into the warmth of Richie’s hand. “You’re so warm.”

“I’ve definitely heard that one before.”

Eddie scowled, “I wasn’t done.” His expression melted when Richie stuck his tongue out at him to indicate he was teasing. He desperately wanted to kiss Richie on the lips but that wasn’t going to happen so long as the lip ring was still there (the nose ring was also a risk, but one he was willing to take). He kissed the inside of Richie’s palm. “Every time I catch the clock in the corner of my eye I count the hours down until I can see you again.” He kissed his wrist. Richie didn’t say anything, but he used his thumb in his free left hand and began sliding the rings off of those fingers. Eddie kept his lips against Richie’s wrist and kissed once more before he inhaled. Richie still smelled of alcohol from the bar, whiskey tonight evidently, but also like Richie. Like the combination of his sandalwood cologne and metallic, sweaty hands calloused rough after years of playing bass. He removed his lips from Richie’s skin and took Richie’s hand down from his face and started to massage him, his thumbs in Richie’s palm as he worked outward. The last ring fell from Richie’s index finger and clattered onto the counter.

“Do you remember the first time you took me on a date?” he asked.

Richie cracked a smile. “Yeah, I took you out to the frozen pond and you fell on your ass.”

Eddie was focused on the base joint of Richie’s thumb. “Shut up,” he muttered, and jokingly squeezed with a little extra pressure.

“I’m just saying,” Richie went on, his free hand moved in circles with his words, “you can sleep upside down but you can’t balance on two metal blades?”

Eddie’s movements paused and he looked Richie dead in his big, green eyes. “Those two things aren’t even remotely comparable.” If he kept looking for too long he would get lost in those eyes.

Richie struggled even more to keep his stern appearance as the memories elicited more giggles from him. “You had such an irrational fear that I was going to fall and slice myself open and unleash your ‘killer instincts!’”

“I did not say that,” Eddie retorted.

Richie shook his head. “I’m damn near certain I remember you saying the phrase ‘killer instincts.’ It took me a whole hour to coax you onto the ice!”

Eddie smiled. It had taken him quite a bit of encouragement, hadn’t it? But Richie didn’t mind then. And he wouldn’t mind if it happened again tomorrow. As much as he loved to tease Eddie, he didn’t judge him for his faults or his fears, and he never pushed him. He was patient and compassionate in a way that wasn’t immediately apparent from his bumbling persona, and Eddie was one of the only ones lucky enough to see that side of him. He never forgot how lucky he was. “Fuck, I want to kiss you so bad,” he confessed breathlessly. He was lost in those eyes now.

The man against the counter in front of him feigned deep thought. “Hmm, not yet,” he decided. Eddie groaned audibly, which elicited another chuckle. Richie pulled his right hand out of Eddie’s grasp and gestured for him to hold on a minute. Then he unbuttoned the denim’s jacket he wore and shrugged it off his shoulders before he placed it on the counter behind him. He still had the black t-shirt underneath, but at least the t-shirt didn’t contain any silver buttons. Eddie would still have to look out for the necklace, though, which without the jacket he could see was a typical silver cross necklace. He gave Richie a pointed look.

“It was the only one they had!” he exclaimed defensively. “If they had a silver dragon necklace you know I would have bought the silver dragon necklace instead.” Eddie rolled his eyes, and this time Richie was the one that caved. “Fine,” he said, tone similar to that of an indignant child and he reached behind his head to unclasp the necklace and add it to the growing pile.

Eddie hummed in satisfaction and wrapped his arms around Richie’s waist as he embraced him, his own clothes protecting him from the silver belt buckle at Richie’s hips. He carefully buried his head in the other’s chest and inhaled again. Still Richie. Still home. Still his.

Richie had asked him once if he ever had trouble suppressing his vampiric urges. When he first posed the question, Eddie had laughed. Then he explained that that was simply a stereotype created by humans to paint vampires as primal creatures and to add suspense to teen romance novels. He was just as capable of self-control as any warm-blooded body out there.

He kissed Richie’s collarbone once. Then twice. Then started to work up his neck. “You know,” he half-whispered against Richie’s skin in between, “I could make it so we never run out of time.”

This got Richie’s attention. Both of his eyebrows furrowed in curiosity. “I’m listening.”

“You asked me once what this life was like,” he continued. He pulled away for a moment and looked Richie in the eyes. “You could find out.”

Richie’s mouth dropped open slightly as the realization hit him and it was Eddie’s turn for smug satisfaction. “You’d do that for me?” he asked. It must have seemed too good to be true — it was something they had never brought up in conversation before even though chances were all too high that Richie had been dying to ask.

Eddie nodded.

“Well how could I say no?”

And that was when he decided that fuck it, he didn’t care about the lip ring anymore. He grabbed Richie’s hair with his hands and pulled him in for a kiss. A deep kiss where their fingers tangled in each other’s hair and they almost suffocated themselves because their ache for each other was greater than the ache for oxygen in their chests. And Eddie was surprised to notice that he didn’t feel any burning sensation against his lips.

He stopped, and pulled back to see Richie’s coy grin that meant he was up to something. “It’s a fucking fake, isn’t it?”

“Maybe?”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed. He looked at the nose ring and earrings that Richie still had on. “What about—”

“Don’t—”

“Fuck!” Eddie had taken Richie’s ear lobe in between his thumb and forefinger to test the earrings, but unfortunately for him it was real. Richie took the afflicted digit in his hand and brought it up to his lips to kiss it better. “How many more of those are fake?”

Richie shook his head, “Only the one on my lip.” Eddie wanted to be angry with him so, so badly, but he couldn’t deny it was well-played on Richie’s part, and that he looked good doing it. But now that the ruse was up, he could lean in again for another kiss. Richie apparently didn’t want to lean down, and turned them, then hoisted Eddie onto the kitchen counter. Eddie wrapped his legs around him in response, his ankles coming to meet behind Richie’s knees. “But,” Richie interjected when they split for a breath, “the nose ring stays on during sex.”   


“Sex?” Eddie snickered in response, “With  _ that _ belt buckle?” Richie looked down at his own waist and his face flushed in a way that indicated he had gotten ahead of himself and completely forgotten about one of his few remaining pieces. Eddie kissed Richie’s lips one more time before he untangled his limbs and hopped off the counter to head for bed. It was roughly quarter after five in the morning at that point, the sun would begin to rise by the time he settled down.

“I think you’re on your own with that one.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! 
> 
> i had a lot of fun with this one. tried a different writing process so it took a bit longer to write than usual but i think it works for the better. idk. i just love these two and i have plenty more ideas coming!! :)
> 
> hope you enjoyed! ♡♡♡
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/doghairsweaters) | [tumblr](https://doghairsweaters.tumblr.com/) | [ curious cat](https://curiouscat.qa/doghairsweaters)


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